And pooh for all the cleaning that ensues.
A couple of friends came over for dinner and a movie last night - I'm considering watching the second part of La meglio Gioventu without them, they were so funny. If I ever give you one piece of really useful advice, let it be this one: don't watch a sad-ish drama with funny people because that is bound to be somewhat counterproductive. Lacrymal glands need practice, and tears do not stream down my face when I laugh my ass off. My ass doesn't fall off either, mind you, and more's the pity.
Oh, also, white wine (Californian, mesdames-messieurs, my first foray into America's vineyards), yes. Mead? Not so much. I had an unopened bottle of mead in my fridge, so we decided to try it. Anyone wants a three-quarter full bottle of mead? And no, mead isn't just something out of Harry Potter. But now, I wish it were.
And that translation is still there, lurking and taunting "you'll never finish me, you'll never finish me". No, not before I do the washing-up I won't. But once that's done, I'll be kicking your anorexic and botoxed TV-show ass. Yes, I know - hope, anyway - that asses don't get botoxed, call that... poetic licence.